


A Use or Two

by Charnia



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, kmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charnia/pseuds/Charnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran joins Roland Cousland's party, and ends up in his tent the very same night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Use or Two

**Author's Note:**

> This was written from a prompt at the Dragon Age Kink Meme (dragonage-kink.livejournal.com): "The Warden jumps Zevran's bones the night after his recruitment into the party. Can be as rough or as needy/broken sexings as Anon wants."
> 
> For some reason for kmeme my brain latches onto either fluffy nervous virgin smut or slightly ugly to downright frightening smut. This one falls into the second category for me. I think I'd describe it "reluctant-con", and wasn't comfortable posting it at kmeme since my feelings about its potential use as masturbation material are not unmixed. But I'm posting it here because I decided Zevran would say that sometimes sex is like going to the dentist--a little nervewracking and unpleasant, but you get a sticker when it's over.

Zevran watched the party as they started setting up camp, trying to figure out what he'd gotten himself into. His ambush had failed, as planned, but instead of being killed, he'd been captured. The two Wardens fought well as a team, and had picked his soldiers off one by one. He had finally been defeated when they turned on him, maneuvering to keep him trapped between them, under constant attack. Finally as he parried an attack by the younger Warden the lead Warden had gotten past his guard. His sword cut Zevran's upper arm to the bone, and a moment later the other Warden had slammed him with his shield, knocking him out.

When Zevran awakened he had realized getting killed in combat was one thing, but getting run through while lying facedown in the dirt with his hands tied behind his back was another. When the head Warden rolled him over with a kick and started to ask questions he began to try to convince the Warden to spare him.

He had been enumerating the ways he could be useful when the Warden had scoffed, "Perhaps you could warm my bed?" Unsure of the Warden's intent, he had insinuated he wasn't unwilling–and perhaps he had gone a little overboard when he called the Warden a deadly sex god, but he seemed amused, and perhaps intrigued. Zevran wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. If he had to, it would be far from the first time he'd let a human use him in that way, but the fewer onerous tasks he had to agree to the better.

Finally the Warden agreed to let him join the party. "I can always think of a use or two for a handsome elf," he had said, eyeing Zevran speculatively. The younger Warden had rolled his eyes, but hadn't tried to argue. The dark-haired mage also looked displeased, but had healed his cut arm without complaint.

Soon the party's tents were up, and they were heading to bed as dusk turned to night. Zevran's tent and a few other belongings were left in the Crow camp that now lay a good dozen miles behind him. He would be sleeping under the stars. He moved a little closer to the fire, hoping it would not be a cold night. To his surprise the younger Warden came up to him, carrying a blanket.

"Here. We don't have an extra tent but I don't think it's going to rain tonight. We can pick one up in the next town," he said grudgingly.

"Thank you," Zevran said, standing and taking the blanket.

"I'm Alistair. I don't think you know anyone's names. Morrigan healed you earlier, and the other woman is Leliana. He's Roland," he said, jerking his thumb towards the lead Warden. This said, Alistair walked away. He obviously did not trust Zevran nor want to speak to him. But Zevran supposed he was not the one he needed to keep happy.

Zevran found a relatively rock-free area and took off his baldric, armor, and boots, though he left the rest of his clothes on. He curled up in the blanket, checking to be sure his sword was within reach. The night was cool, but the blanket proved adequate. Zevran slept lightly, awakening periodically when Alistair, who was on watch, wandered by and stepped on some dry leaves, or when the dreaming mabari started growling quietly in its sleep. He woke with a start when he felt a boot nudge him in the ribs. Roland was standing over him, his face barely visible in the moonlight.

"My watch is over. If you were sincere in your offer, come to my tent." He walked away without giving Zevran a chance to respond.

Zevran lay there staring up at the stars, trying to decide what to do. It wasn't an order, so perhaps he could ignore it. But he was quite uncertain of his security in the group, and this was a step that could improve that. Additionally, he was the one who had brought up the possibility, so if he then backed out on it, wouldn't Roland suspect his sincerity in his vow to serve him? Finally he stood. He sword lay on the ground, but he had a dagger on his belt. He took this off–it wouldn't do to bring weapons with him. He didn't like being unarmed, but it was a calculated risk that he'd taken countless times before. After all, if the Warden meant to kill him, he would already be dead.

He went to Roland's tent and hesitated before pulling the tent flap aside. The faint yellow glow of a candle lantern spilled out as he stepped in.

Roland was sitting cross-legged on his bedroll poring over a map of Ferelden. He looked up as Zevran stepped into the tent and gave a slow smile. "I didn't expect to see you," he said, rolling up the map and setting it aside. He looked Zevran up and down with piercing gray eyes. Zevran wondered if he should make some move, but decided that the Warden would prefer to initiate things.

Roland started taking off his shirt, muscles flexing in his powerful shoulders. "Take off your clothes," he ordered.

Zevran waited for him to toss his shirt aside. Roland had muscular arms and shoulders from fighting with sword and shield, and was scarred from fighting the darkspawn. Scars didn't bother Zevran, and he was glad that if he had to do this at least the Warden's body was attractive, although his face was not particularly handsome. Roland was watching him expectantly, so he took his shirt off, not moving too quickly, and dropped it to the ground.

"Interesting tattoos," Roland said, flicking his eyes over Zevran's chest. "Let me see your back."

Zevran cooperatively turned and Roland gave an amused chuckle. "Do those go down further?"

Of course, thought Zevran, otherwise what is the point? But he didn't say anything, just pulled his pants and smallclothes down, slow enough to tease. He bent and stepped out of them, stripping off his socks as well.

When he turned Roland was reclining with his hand down the front of his pants, stroking himself as he watched Zevran with a slight smile of pleasure. He didn't seem to mind that Zevran wasn't hard, although the situation was beginning to send pricklings of arousal to his groin.

"Come here," Roland said, beckoning. Zevran stepped towards him and knelt between his knees. Roland lifted his hips and pulled his pants down further and his cock sprang free, already almost fully erect. Zevran bent and took him in his mouth, feeling relieved that he didn't share the disinterest in bathing held by many Fereldans.

The Warden groaned as Zevran played his tongue over him and then set to work. Initially he wrapped his hand around the base of Roland's cock as he sucked and caressed the tip, but Roland soon tangled his fingers in Zevran's hair and pushed him down, forcing him to take in more of his length. Zevran suppressed his annoyance, moving his hand to cup Roland's balls. The annoyance resurged when the Warden started pulling Zevran's head up and down, forcing his cock deeper into Zevran's throat than was comfortable in this position. He complied, though, moving at the desired pace, and using his hands to caress Roland's body. Roland groaned and thrust into Zevran's mouth, and he could taste pre-cum.

He was beginning to hope that Roland would be satisfied to come in his mouth when he pulled Zevran back by his hair, none too gently. "Lie down," he said, sitting and rummaging through his pack. Zevran lay on his stomach, feeling a fluttering of nervousness in his belly. Gauging from Roland's manners while getting his cock sucked the best Zevran could expect was a rough fuck before getting thrown out on his ass. At least Roland seemed to understand the need for lubrication, but if he didn't do it right, this could hurt.

Roland pulled the cork from a small flask and poured some oil on his hand. Moving closer to Zevran, he slid his fingers down the cleft between his buttocks and slipped an oil-slick finger into him. Zevran felt the ring of muscle twitch at the invasion–it had been a while since he'd done this. He tried to relax as Roland slid another finger in. Then Roland swivelled his fingers and Zevran gasped as he brushed that spot. "Ah, right there?" Roland asked smugly, then started sliding his fingers across it. Zevran felt himself hardening, and when Roland added a third finger a few minutes later he opened his legs to give him better access.

When Roland pulled his hand away Zevran expected he would then take him from behind, but instead Roland took his hip and rolled him on his back. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It seemed perhaps a little too intimate.

Roland got between his knees and spread oil on his cock, then smoothly penetrated Zevran. As his cock slid in Zevran threw back his head and groaned in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Maker, that's good," Roland said under his breath, fully sheathed in Zevran's body. He held still for a moment before starting to thrust, pulling slowly almost all the way out before plunging rapidly back in. Zevran tried to grab his stiff cock to stroke it but Roland batted away his hand, then caught his wrists and pinned them above his head with his left hand. To Zevran's surprise he took Zevran's cock in his own oil-slicked hand and began pumping in rhythm to his strokes.

Trapped under the Warden's weight and with his hands pinned over his head, Zevran had to be almost entirely passive. He was able to wrap his legs around Roland, using his heels to pull Roland in harder as he thrust, but otherwise could do nothing but lie there and experience the sensations Roland's cock and hand inspired. Gradually he started to feel the familiar sensation of impending orgasm, and hoped he would reach it before Roland came and left him hanging.

Finally Roland drew out again, then thrust once more, and his cock skimmed that spot inside, sending a lightning bolt of arousal through Zevran's body. Zevran let out a cry no doubt easily heard by the others as he dug his heels into Roland's hips and pulled him close, fighting the Warden's imprisoning hands as his body convulsed in orgasm. Warm seed spattered his chest. Roland snarled as he felt Zevran's muscles contract around him. He let go of Zevran's cock and grabbed his wrists in both hands as he began to thrust furiously, Zevran raising his legs to let him penetrate deeper. A moment later Roland came with a roar, his cock throbbing as he expended his seed, his hands clutching bruisingly around Zevran's wrists.

The Warden rolled off to lie on the bedroll beside him. Freed from Roland's pinning hands, Zevran lowered his aching arms. Roland laughed, still catching his breath. "A use or two indeed," he said.


End file.
